


can’t quite make it alone

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Lightsabers, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: “This,” Finn said, smiling. Something giddy crossing his features, like the day they had met, like the answering feeling in her chest.
Relationships: Finn/Rey (Star Wars)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	can’t quite make it alone

**Author's Note:**

> For @venatohru: 
> 
> for being dope, for being great, for being a person of taste, for being completely to blame. For being there. ♥
> 
> This takes place post-war but before Rey goes to Tatooine, so not _exactly_ post-canon.

The cold floor was grounding. She sat cross-legged across from Finn, in front of the open window that allowed the fading late afternoon sun to filter through. It didn’t quite reach her, but the streaming rays fell across Finn’s back and gleamed against his forearms, his hands.

“It’s intuitive,” Rey said sagely. Or what she hoped came across as sage. She had a brief moment where she considered bringing the Skywalker lightsabers into the room. Maybe they could be used as tangible, almost breathing and living, instruction manuals. She quickly dismissed the thought. They needed to be buried and this belonged to Finn and her. They would manage.

Finn nodded slowly. “Right. Intuitive.”

She looked at the spread parts between where they were sitting on the floor of their borrowed workshop. “Yes, you will somehow know how they fit together. It will come to you.” She addressed Finn but felt as if she were talking to herself a little.

She could do this, but there was the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that told her _you’re qualified to do, but are you qualified to teach?_. Rey had had two great teachers in master Luke and Leia, but it felt as if their legacies overshadowed their teachings. As if the most important lesson they had left her with was one about losses and the endurance of grieve.

 _The best way to teach is by doing_ , said an infuriatingly confident voice in the back of her head that sounded exactly like Poe. It was, after all, what he had told them just this morning, in between harried bouts of showing compassion and decency to the unlikeliest individuals.

Poe had turned his big, expressive eyes in their direction, and had said, “look at you two.” He had placed both hands on Finn’s shoulders. “You got this.”

Rey called up that kind of confidence, when Finn asked, “so where do we start? I mean, which of these pieces—” He picked up and put down several parts lying close to him and Rey tracked the movement of his hands, imagined every object molding to his touch, everything he touched being reshaped, renewed, resurrected.

Rey reached for the power cell Finn had just put down and felt it warm from his touch, felt the warmth transfer from his hands to the metal to her body. An undeniable connection.

“This,” she said and somehow knew she was right. She had felt guided to it. But then again, “it could be a different one for you.”

Finn furrowed his brow. “How did you know to grab that one?”

 _Your touch led me to it_ she couldn't say. "I just — felt it. It's — Master Luke and Leia, they didn't exactly explain this stuff to me. I am extrapolating from their lessons." It was war and they had focused on training that would lead to a win, to a much deserved and much-needed victory. It didn't change the fact that her training had been following blueprints that weren't exactly tailor-made for her.

“No, I get you. I’m just— I recognize the feeling, but how can you tell it’s the Force and not something coming from within you?”

“It does come from within you. The Force comes from within you,” she told him, turned her gaze to the far wall, examined the barely visible cracks in it, the places its color had faded. You wouldn’t see it unless you knew where to look, unless you were searching for it. She turned to look at him and found him staring at her.

“No, I know. I meant— how do you know you’re not influencing it with your already existing feelings?”

Is that what Rey had been doing? Had he noticed? She wondered what he had seen in her at that moment. She waited for the weight in her stomach to appear but felt it receding instead.

"You have to trust it to guide you, have to trust yourself to chase it. You need to trust that it will be there waiting for you when you catch up." She swallowed. "What did you feel? Where did it call you to?"

Finn chuckled and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, “well, the parts closer to you feel— it’s like I can see them emanating something inviting, cool and refreshing. I don’t know. Do you think that’s it?”

She had taken his power cell. Maybe they were meant to share and exchange to complement each other’s processes. “We can try that. Let’s—”

They worked in silence, their hands brushing together on more than one occasion. That brief jolt of energy she got each time tethering her back into herself.

“Okay, I feel— I think I know what you were talking about now.” He grabbed a pommel. “This,” Finn said, holding it out between his fingers, and smiling. Something giddy crossing his features, like the day they had met, like the answering feeling in her chest.

She grabbed the part of her quarterstaff that would double as the hilt and said, “this.” She was grinning now, felt her skin settle in her bones, fresh air enter her lungs.

Once they had assembled the pieces, the uncolored crystals called to them. The crystals lied together, next to each other, waiting for that final connection, that final bond that would define them. Their color not being defined by what they were, but from what they could become.

The silence as they worked was comforting. The company they gave each other was not hampered or aided by the extra noise, just existing alongside whatever they chose.

Once they had finished, the golden light of her blade blinded her for a moment and brought her gaze back into focus the next. “Your turn,” she told Finn.

He stepped away and activated his lightsaber, bathing her and the room in a bright indigo light. It called to her, or maybe it was just his presence.

Finn swung the blade, gripping the hilt with both hands, forming a perfect wide arch in the air, and said, "you too. Let's do it together."

She moved closer and their blades crashed together, the colors melting against each other. They swung once, twice, three times. The pressure on her chest didn’t feel like exhaustion. She stepped back and said, “I want—”

She found she didn’t have the words. _The best way is by doing_ , she told herself and briefly wondered if Poe followed his own advice.

“Rey. Rey, what do you want?” Finn asked, his gaze serious and open.

She lowered her saber and stepped closer to him. “This,” she said.

He met her halfway, their foreheads resting together before their lips connected. She felt his palm on her neck, his thumb on her pulse. Like something she had never felt before.


End file.
